Date: 16.12.2007
Time: 8:45 p.m.
Those bonds of attachment
That held the depleted corpse
Bound exquisitely to the reeking realm
Break, tatter and tear
As life is imbued into her rotten body.
She breaks all the attachment
Liberated, she rises above
All those dreary mortals
Who wished only to keep her bound
Against her will, to their flawed mortal plane.
This moment she stands alone
Strengthened by the solitude
That is welcomed and cherished,
Freed from her hankering after
Other damaged souls.
She stands alone needing no support
Not a single bond to keep her chained
That deceased marionette’s eyes awaken
To move against the will of those strings
That play a dithyramb for the living.
But the corpse is not disheartened
For solitude is what she wants
And the cadaver is freed from
All those vacuous ties that bring torment
For they are not needed for her to fly again.
End: 8:52 p.m.
11 comments:
disturbing imagery,very well crafted.
You said it.
I'll have to read this a few times and get back to you.
You are pensively intense- girl!
Reminds me of a poem, I read, but, I can't recall its name though. :(
Coming to solitude, sometimes, I also hope I would get a solitary life deep in the woods, away from every attachment & spend the rest of my days there. The image you have created in this poem is painfully tranquil, I like it, these are the kind of things I love/like. Now you must be wondering, this guy is outta his mind.
-Sam.
I'm all ready to join your Penguin Army, as long as it doesn't involve me in going to Arctic Ocean during this season. :P
Well I did say I'd be back, and when I say it I mean it.
So it seems we are confined to the nether realms where we walk among the dead.
I am interested to know what is really dead and what - life - you envisage being restored; there is restoration here in this reeking world.
Liberated, brought back to life. I suppose having experienced death, and the return/from, we are no doubt one step ahead of the mortals who maintain this flawed place.
The most interesting part: "Freed from her hankering after
Other damaged souls."
---------
I know you don't like weak men
You get bored so quick
And you don't like strong men
'cause they're hip to your tricks
It's been dirty for dirty
Down the line
But you know
You come when they whistle
When you're loving and kind"
---------------------
"That deceased marionette’s eyes awaken ..." this catches me as well. A puppet on a string now playes a mocking dithyramb for the living. It seemes we are still bound when free, only to be manipulated.
The last verse tells me it's true, there is no middle ground for you. Freed from the depths you take to the highs of life.
Perhaps - may I suggest - finding a person who you dislike, and tentatively developing a relationship might be turning point. Like the frog prince- beauty and the beast. These original stories have a lot to of power to unknown to lesser mortals.
Beautiful words and enthralling images...but...death is not the end they say. Ah, now :)
N
I will not call this poem beautiful, for that'd be not getting the point at all, don't u think?
Rather, I find it intriguing, and ... disturbing. Solitude is almost like a pre-run of the slow sleep of the dead. What I really liked is the sort of realisation at the end - that the attachments are not needed for her to soar into the infinite. Attachments that ultimately bring the 'torment'.
I wish we all could snap the strings that control us as easily...
Hey, where do you remain these days?
-Sam.
the ending was beautiful...
man,when its morbidity...ur the best in the craft.
p.s:i missed ur blog :(
Wonderful work LD
Liberation is what we desire and few are able to achieve.
:]
beautifully expressed babe... u have a silent power behind ur words... and its so subtle, which makes it even more vocal.... loved this one
cheers!
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